


try my luck

by Roxie Ann (pluvial_poetry)



Category: Booksmart (2019)
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Teenage Fumbling, Yuletide 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-24 15:40:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21840319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluvial_poetry/pseuds/Roxie%20Ann
Summary: Second time lucky? Amy certainly hopes so...
Relationships: Amy/Hope (Booksmart)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 106
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	try my luck

**Author's Note:**

  * For [napkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/napkins/gifts).



"Everyone knows that auditing Moehler's senior seminar is the best way to get a letter of recommendation from him to Ropes and Gray LLP,” Molly tells Annabelle. She has her laptop open on the kitchen counter and is face timing Annabelle in split screen with her annotated class schedule. “Everyone also knows that junior year in the make or break year with getting in the door for key internships. So we have to take this class sophomore year, it the essential part of the four year plan to law school.”

Amy opens the fridge and grabs an apple. She's feel self-conscious even though Molly hasn’t spared her a glance. But really that's to be expected, Molly's only on the first affirmative of a debate.

"Or we can take Johnson's shitty ethics class and get a letter of recommendation from him because everyone knows his son is a hiring partner at Wachtell." Tiny on-screen Annabelle says. She seems to be in the middle of giving herself a pedicure when Amy leans over the counter to get a better view. She honestly doesn’t get Molly and Annabelle’s whole relationship of semi-competitive sarcasm but apparently it works. They're planning to live together in New Haven next year.

Molly frowns. "Yes, that seems... also true." She spots Amy, and her gaze narrows suspiciously. "Annabelle, I'm going to have to call you back."

"You actually really don't have to." Annabelle says before Molly hits end call.

Molly is still peering at Amy like she's inspecting a slide under a microscope. Amy tries not to fidget or tug at the short hem of her shorts. 

"You look... glorious. You are fucking glowing. And this outfit!" Molly imitates a chef's kiss. "You are totally getting laid in this look; this is the glow of a new day, new woman.”

Amy cracks a smile and holds up her hand for a high-five. 

Molly's hand slaps against hers. "Hell yes! Go get it! And then come back and tell me everything!"

GiGi peeks her head into the kitchen, making them both jump. “I’m really happy for you, Amy, but can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to catch up on some sleep.”

“When and how the hell did you get here, GiGi?” Molly gasps.

“Okay, I’m going.” Amy says, not letting herself get distracted by that whole sideshow. She considers the apple in her hand and then remembers the vomit wasteland that was her last attempt at getting laid, and leaves it. 

Molly turns and grabs her by the shoulders, stares into her eyes. “Good luck. And 40% of lesbians report that scissoring is a regular feature of their sex lives, so FYI, it’s totally a thing.”

“Bye!” GiGi waves and disappears back into Molly’s dining room. 

"I should-" Molly starts, gesturing after GiGi. But she grabs Amy again, pulls her into a hug. “No sane gay woman could say no to this face.”

Amy disentangles herself. “I’m going. I’m going to be cool and casual... just ride up to her house, like-"

//

"Ummm, hi. Long time, no see,” - is what Amy ends up saying. She kickstands her bike before she tips it over. Her knees are kind of wobbly and her hands have been sweaty since she turned onto Claremont, five blocks back. She wipes them on her shorts. Hope is sitting on her front step. She wasn’t anticipating that Hope would be outside. She thought she would have the length of the driveway to figure out her opening maneuver.

Hope is smoking a cigarette, staring at her; her face a blank wall.

“Yeah, okay.” Hope says eventually, stubbing out the cigarette into a can of orange Fanta.

“Uhh, what’s okay, exactly?” Amy is still stuck on the hand thing. What kind of hand placement says casual, just-passing-by-your-house, it’s been a year since we hooked up that one time, no big deal? Where are hands supposed to go? Hips? Pockets? Oh fuck, these shorts have no pockets.

Hope rolls her eyes and stands up. “Okay to whatever this is. You wanted to come in, right?”

“Yeah, of course, I would love to come.” Amy cringes as Hope bends to grab her trash. Why? Why that combination of words? It's a betrayal; like her mouth doesn't want her to get laid, ever. 

Hope leads Amy up to the house; Amy only pausing to stash her bike in the side hedges of her house.

Hope's room is the first on the left at the top of the stairs. It’s neat, the walls covered in photographs, the spaces in between them a deep green. Amy doesn't really get a good look.

She lands on her back when Hope shoves her down on her bed. The comforter is soft when she swings her legs up, and it's a little bunched up in the small of her back like Hope only half made the bed when she got up that morning.

Hope stands over her, so beautiful. Her glossy dark hair. Her long legs. The wide curve of her mouth. Amy's hands feel sweaty again, and they bunch up in fists against her sides of their own accord.

Hope lies downs on top of her, kissing her neck, pushing her shirt up and unhooking the front clasp of her bra.

Hope re-adjusts her body, slides one knee forward, just slightly, so her thigh slots between Amy's legs.

Amy is careful, moves one hand up, her fingers brushing over bare skin under the hem of Hope’s skirt.

Hope kisses her neck again, angling her leg higher so Amy can grind against it.

"Wow," Amy croaks out, her voice broken and her vision going dark and wonky. "Oh, my god."

Hope laughs quietly and bends down to take one of Amy's nipples, hard and high, between her teeth.

Amy realizes that she’s new to this but it’s kind of crazy how quickly she is reduced to full-on noises, arching in to every bite. It’s like she’s completely taken aback by her own pleasure, but she also can’t help adding to it, one hand sliding low on her belly, her hand pushing against her crotch, the pressure familiar and now strangely not quite good enough.

She doesn’t think anyone but Hope was home, otherwise all these noises would be really embarrassing. She’s actively grunting now; grinding against her own hand. Hope still licking and biting at her breast. Amy had unconsciously wound a hand in Hope’s hair, pulling hard as Hope breaks off to switch between nipples.

“Ouch.” Hope pulls back, detangling Amy’s fingers.

Amy is breathing in uneasy bursts. “Sorry, sorry.” She’s messing this up again, she can’t believe-

“It’s fine.” Hope says. She takes her shirt off and literally every thought Amy has ever had is gone. She has literally been dumb struck by breasts. 

“Why don’t we... “ Hope says, the rest of the sentence lost as she slowly bends over, leaving a slow trail of kisses across Amy’s abdomen. 

Amy turns her face to the side and gasps out into a pillow, "That feels really good," and Hope doesn’t argue, reaching up to her breasts again, cupping them in her palms.

Hope pulls away again and Amy is up on her elbows reaching for her before she can even think about it. She’s running on instinct here. She wants Hope on top of her.

But Hope just pushes at Amy’s knees until they separate and then she's leaning over; her breath hot on the seam of Amy’s shorts. Amy swallows and it’s kind of an undertaking, given how dry her mouth has gone. 

Amy is so wet it's starting to leak out the sides of her underwear onto her thighs. She rubs at the stickiness, half-heartedly trying not to make a mess of Hope's comforter. She feels Hope's tongue in between her fingers; Hope taking these quick, tasting licks at the slickness there. In all of Amy's vivid daydreams she never would have imagined this. Now she's probably never going to imagine anything else. And that's when Hope slides her hand inside Amy's shorts, inside her underwear. She runs a hand over the hair on Amy's crotch, petting it. 

Again, it’s not like Amy has any experience with the whole sex thing, and she doesn't have enough data points to be statistically significant, but this is objectively amazing. When Amy looks down, Hope seems to be having a good time too; she actually kind of smiles at her when Amy moans and wiggles beneath her. Like she doesn't care about the awkward angle of her wrist or the fact that all Amy is doing is lying there and taking it.

Not that it even takes that long. A couple minutes maybe, rubbing against the heel of Hope's palm, and all Amy can do is hold her breath before she comes. 

Amy doesn’t want to move when it’s over. But she does want to make Hope feel as good as she does, even if she doesn't know how she should do that. Is she supposed to try to finger Hope again? Eat her out? Or is that too advanced? She really should have watched more porn before she left for Botswana. 

"You didn’t... What can I do? For you." Amy asks breathlessly, leaning up on one elbow.

Hope is watching her, sitting cross-legged at the end of her bed, her trademark half-smirk back in place. "You don't have to do anything."

"I want to. I really, really want to." Amy tells her. She hadn't thought about it much while she was in Botswana trading snapchat stories with a distant Hope, but there it is again. She wants the sleepovers with a really fun person to lie around with. And vagina.

But Hope shrugs, looks toward her bedroom door. "Actually my parents will be home soon."

Amy sits up and starts to fumble her shirt back down. She's gone cold in more ways than one. "Oh. Yeah, right, of course. I'll just... go now?"

Hope rolls her eyes, still topless and unrepentant, and she puts her hand over Amy's knee. “You could also come back over tomorrow. Maybe third time's the charm?"

"Totally," Amy says, fervent and giddy with relief. She hasn't fucked this up for a second time. She gets to try again, and with all things, practice makes perfect. So with a grin she reaches out to do something she's been meaning to try again since last year. 

She kisses Hope.


End file.
